


Children of Magic

by Fallen_eagle



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dark Magic, Family, Family Bonding, Found Family, Genocide, Healing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Magic, No Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Witch Hunters, Witchcraft, Witches, this story is dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22883803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_eagle/pseuds/Fallen_eagle
Summary: In a world where women are inherently born with magic, they are killed most often at birth. Those who aren't are placed in 'breeding dens' their sole purpose being to give birth to boys. Coven's of women dot the landscape, hiding in forests and mountains keeping to themselves.Amilia was rescued from a breeding den by the Coven of Light. But when her coven is killed will she be able to pick up the pieces and find out exactly what she can do?Eridur has been raised his whole life to see magic - and women - as abominations and devils. But with his magic, does that make him one too?Quen is the youngest heir of the kingdom. Yet their magic puts him in a difficult spot. When they are exiled and found by Amilia's coven will they be able to help their people realize exactly what they've done?++++Please note that parts of this story will get incredibly dark and may trigger some people. Reader beware!
Kudos: 6





	1. Amilia

The room is quiet, save for the laboured breathing in the middle of the room. Her breaths come in gasps, trying to get as much air as possible for the energy she was using. To the side, a man held a small boy smiling down at the child. There was hope that the other one would be born male as well. Two for the price of one was always a good deal after all. 

It had been slightly concerning earlier when the priests had claimed that the day would be one of darkness, when the moon covered the sun. Girls born this day would have more magic as the devil would have more power then. But the man was holding a son and the other child would be a boy. All the signs had been there.

But hope was not to last, as the second child gave out a cry. Another man who had been standing waiting to collect the child frowned at the sight. A girl. An abomination. He looked up to his partner and frowned, shaking his head ever so slightly. Without a second thought the two men left the room without a backwards glance. The woman, now relaxing after such a stressful birth, picked up the child they had almost dropped by her feet. Her daughter, born on a day where magic was proven to be stronger. 

“Be wise my daughter. Be kind and gentle. But when the world fights back against you, be strong like stone and give to quarter,” Her voice was soft as she hugged the girl close to her. She would only have a minute to hold her, and this would likely be the last time someone did. “For you are my daughter, and when you are older you will know what that means.” As she finished the door slammed open and a man in black walked it taking the newborn child from her mother's arms without a second thought and left. Leaving the sounds of a crying woman behind him.

If it had been any other woman who the girl belonged to, the child would have been killed. But as it was, she was important and the girl looked as if she would be pretty when she was older. So instead of a swift twist of the neck the girl was transported to a different den. 

* * *

No one spoke to her, not nicely at least. She was yelled at through the bars of her door to do things no child should ever be forced to do. She had no name as ‘abominations’ weren’t given names. Her room number was what she was referred to as. Number 14. She was beaten if she cried, and beaten if she didn’t. Beaten when she flinched, and whipped when she stood firm. Seven winters and seven springs came and went with the girl being held in that one room. Screams and cries could be heard every day, newborn babies being taken from mothers. Mothers screaming as children were stripped from them. Girls crying as they were forced upon by men nearly three times their age. If any place was hell, this was most like it.

But the girl never spoke, never said a word. Never screamed. Never cried, some of the men in the den called her ‘well trained’ for it. Had she known anything different in this life, perhaps she would have hated the degrading feeling that those comments made her feel. But as it was she had been raised knowing only those comments, knowing only that room. What is there to hope for when you don’t know what hope itself is?

When she was seven years old, the sound of cries and screams came to a halt. You could almost hear a pin-drop. Then the sound of crumbling stone echoed through the hallway. The small girl hid in the far corner, trying to make herself invisible and unknown to her it worked. She had turned the colour of stone. Anyone who took a closer look into her room would have noticed the slight difference between stone, but those who had invaded the den merely glanced inside before running farther in.

Night came slowly and the den was in ruins. The people who had run through were long gone. The fearful part of her brain yelled at her to stay put. If she left they’d kill her. But the rational part of her mind came back with an argument that the girl truly couldn’t ignore. If she didn’t leave she’d be whipped and killed and likely forced upon if guards came to see. So she took a small step out of her corner, and then another and another and soon she found herself at the door to her small room. 

Her hands were shaking when she tried the handle, and when she expected it to be locked it did the exact opposite. It clicked open. Bare as the day she was born she stepped from the room covering herself with her arms as she walked out into the ruined den. No one was there as she softly headed for where the explosion had taken place, figuring correctly that that would lead out. 

As she got closer and closer to the exit she saw more and more dead bodies strewn about. Most were men, who had likely been with other women. Some however were girls and women. Killed in the heat of battle, not by the invaders but the men themselves. It was terrifying for the girl to walk over the bodies of others who had lived there. How many had been killed before the attack had started? She found as she stared at the pale face of a girl obviously pregnant that she really didn’t want to know the answer. 

The hole in the wall was smaller than she thought. Big enough for a few people at a time but not as big as the door beside it. 

“HEY!” The shout came from behind her, and her heart started pounding wildly. No they couldn’t have already been there, she couldn’t be taken back to that room. No. No, she wouldn’t let them. With that she took off. Not even caring about where she put her feet, she just needed to get away. Her hair flew behind her and she found herself dropping her arms to pump beside her, sprinting down the hill into the dark of the forest. 

Her pursuers didn’t stop, following her deep into the forest. She didn’t know who they were but she had to get away. That was the only thought as she nimbly lept into a tree cutting her hands on the harsh bark. She found herself not caring about her wounds as she cried into her arm, watching the men run beneath the tree. They had been some of the ones who worked at the den. 

It got cold fast and she found herself being pulled, no dragged into the realm of sleep. No one found her while she slept, her magic protecting her from everything. Even those who might have wished to help.

The chirp of the birds woke the small girl from her sleep, perching in her hair. Quietly she stared at the black bird with curious eyes. Was this what she had been stripped of? The world? Sounds from all over made her glance around, they were so different from the cries and screams she had grown used to hearing. Was this what she should have been hearing? It sounded like life itself had come to greet her as the wind blew through her hair.

For the first time in forever for the child she giggled watching as leaves blew with the wind. This truly was what she had been missing. Carefully she climbed down from the tree, noticing the sharp pain in her hands and feet from where she had cut them. Blood dripped from the cuts on her hands when she poked at her wounds. The caw of the bird made her look up, the bird had moved! But how? She hadn’t seen it climb down. The black bird lifted its wings then and flapped a few times flying down to her and then out into the forest, which was far brighter in daylight then in the dark of night. 

The bird flew back and hit her head softly with its wing, calling for her to follow. With careful feet - as they had cuts and scrapes as well - she followed the bird. Through the forest, over roots that she almost had to jump over. It felt like hours to the small girl, now that the adrenaline was out of her system. Where in reality it was only a few minutes.

What the small girl was unaware of was that the black bird was leading her to a small camp. A coven had made camp nearby, and the black bird belonged to one of the witches inside. 

When she first caught sight of the fire, her heart stopped. For surely that was a group of hunters who had been hired to find and kill her! She took a step back, forgetting to breath for a few seconds as she panicked. This would be her end, she was sure of it. 

The black bird flew down in front of her, landing on a branch to the left of the girl. Women in the camp rushed over, having heard the call of the bird. A woman with grey hair stopped in front of the girl and knelt down to look her in the eyes. 

“You are safe now. You are safe here. They will never touch you again. May I look over your wounds child?” Her eyes sparked kindness, and there was no movement to touch the girl before she let out a small nod, remembering to breath as her mind noted that there were no men among the group. Which meant that these women could not in any way possible be hunters. “Thank you child.” The older woman softly picked up one of her hands and cleaned out the wounds on her hands. Glancing at her in concern when the girl didn’t even flinch at what was surely quite painful. 

“Come, you are welcome in the camp. Some warm food I think will do you good, and we can look over your feet. You must be in so much pain.” Another woman stepped forward, holding out a small piece of cloth, not moving to put it on her, just holding it out. The girls small hands grabbed at the cloth pulling it over her shoulders, like a cape. She followed the women into the camp slowly, relaxing her shoulders ever so slightly as they led her to a small stump that she could sit on while they looked over her feet.

There were two other women in the camp, one tending to other children and the other preparing food over the small fire. Three men stood around, though none of them dared to come a step closer to her. One pair of eyes met hers, and the owner - a large man with red hair that came from his face - swore and turned around leaving the camp angrily. She turned to the women, and found the old woman who had tended to her hands shaking her head.

“Do not worry child, they will not hurt you. Should you wish it they will not even come close to you. The man who left, has no anger to you child. He is angry at those who did this to you.” Her feet were cleaned in a matter of seconds, and slowly introductions were done. 

The older woman - named Estelle - was the leader of the coven. The one who had handed her the cloth was Zstar, her husband was the one who had stormed away. His name was Mirk. Red hair tied in a bun, she was Tanya. Dark skin, like night reflected back, her name was Sinila. Dest was one of the men, the older one with greying hair. And the man, who really wasn’t quite a man was Conius. And then came the question that the girl had no answer for. Who was she?

She pointed to herself in clarification. And frowned when they nodded slightly. “Do you have a name child?” Terra, with white blonde hair asked, turning from the pot on the fire. Well of course she had a name, but she couldn’t exactly tell them her name was 14. The girl frowned in consideration, staring at the black bird that she had followed there. The wind rustled leaves past her hair and it whispered to her something that made her heart soar.

Voice unused for so long it took her a second to form her lips into a shape to say that which she heard. “Ami- Amil- Amili.” She tasted it on her lips, the sweetness of her own name. “Amilia.” Estelle smiled at her, beaming at the newest addition to their small coven. 

“Welcome, Amilia to the Coven of Light. Why don’t we get you some clothes?” Smiling back at the older woman she accepted the hand that had been held out to her and pulled herself to her feet nodding quickly. 

This had been what she was missing. Hope and a family. 


	2. Amilia

Days became weeks and weeks became months as Amilia became a child of her coven. They moved often, only staying in one place for a few days at a time. Hunters could find them at any moment and if they stayed too long the odds that they’d be found grew. The end of spring was spent north across the great river, marks of the war once fought there never having truly gone away. 

Amilia found happiness in chasing the other children, though it could sometimes be hard to get her to speak. Years of being beaten for small sounds could not be forgotten easily after all. Sinili had taken to teaching her about the world, the small things like flowers and animals. Writing and reading was taught by Estelle in the evenings when they had finished setting up camp. 

Summer came and went, often spent in small rivers or lakes along their path. Shrieks of joy heard from the children as they splashed water over one another. Lessons were taught by the light of the setting sun and they found themselves staying in one place for longer periods of time. 

Amilia learned to speak, her voice still as soft as a gentle wind that blew through her hair, and sometimes if she was left alone for awhile you could find her having conversations with the wind. She laughed more as the leaves turned from green to orange and yellow and the coven turned their sights back across the river before it froze. 

Winter came fast, frost setting in. Evenings were spent with lessons in history told to them by Estelle, who never left out any details no matter what they were. And when the first flakes fell, Amilia looked up to the sky in wonder her face splitting in half with a grin so bright it could blind. She learned to yell, as snow muffled sound sometimes too much. She learned to be thankful as the meals turned a bit lighter as food stores dwindled. When midwinter came, she learned patience as they sang songs to one another waiting for dawn to arrive. 

Soon spring was back, snow melting into rivers. Ground became mud and Amilia learned her first spell. 

“You focus on what you need dry, namely yourself more often than not. Then when you have what you need magic to do firmly in mind you call upon your magic. For some they have a word they use to call upon their magic. Terra does this. Zstar and Tanya both flick their hands, movement can help. Estelle just thinks on it and snaps her fingers. I humm. Two notes, but it is effective.” Sinili told her softly as Amilia changed her dress again, the rain having soaked through the other one. Her small frame could still not hold the cold very well, she was tiny for her age, the years of malnutrition having effected her. 

“Alright. Can I try it now?” Amilia’s voice was eager at the thought of using magic, she’d seen all the other Sisters use it. Surely there could be something she could learn to do.

“Perhaps you will try it when you are wet again. It is not good to ask magic for things you do not need. Especially at your age.” Sinili was stern as she knelt down to look Amilia in the eye. 

“What do you mean Sinili?” Amilia tilted her head the way she did so often when she was confused. The other Sisters had taken it as a sign something needed to be explained even when the girl said nothing at all.

“Hmm. You see how Estelle’s fingers are blackened after years of use in fire? Or how lightning ripples beneath my skin?” Amilia nodded to the older woman’s question, she’d even asked soft questions about it when she’d first noticed them. “If you take what you do not need, magic leaves its mark. Use too much and you look like the magic you use. You are seven, magic may leave too much of a mark. Be careful young Amilia.”

“Yes Sinili. I will be careful.” Amilia’s answer was filled with honesty, she wouldn’t do something the Sisters warned her of. Especially when it had to do with magic. 

“Good. Run along. Oak must be missing his friend to jump in puddles with by now.” Sinili stood up gently nodding in the direction of the older boy who was poking at a puddle with a stick, glancing up at them every once in a while. 

“We did not mean to jump in the puddles.” Amilia’s face heated up slightly as she walked towards Oak, carefully avoiding the puddles now. 

“Ah, so the puddles jumped on you? Go on, go play.” Sinili laughed as Amilia ran up to Oak, the two of them going back to whatever game they had decided to play. Which as the other children gathered soon turned out to be tag. It was good to see the girl run and play, especially in the condition they had found her in.

Amilia got the first chance to use the spell she’d been shown after a rainshower in the middle of the day. Many of the other Sisters had already used the spell and Amilia could feel Sinili’s eyes on her as she closed her eyes to center herself. Focusing on the wet clothes she wore as well as her hair she imagined the feeling of being warm, in dry clothing. But before she could do anything more, to create it like Sinili had said, the wind blew past her and she felt as if she had put clothes on that had been in the sun. She frowned a bit, as she stared at her dry clothes, she hadn’t caused this. She was simply dry just by imagining what it felt like, there was no movement or word or whistle to cause it. She simply was.

It took all of the other children’s attention to get her to stop focusing on what had happened. They sat in a small circle, laughing at jokes and pranks they played on one another. There were only five of them in the coven, but that was enough for Amilia as she let go of her concern. This was her family, she had probably done something without realizing it.

Her first birthday was spent with cheers from the coven as they danced around a fire to celebrate. Small handmade toys were gifted to her, a toy made of carved wood and a few new ties for her hair. As night fell, the children were brought into small tents and put to sleep. And if they had listened to the way the wind blew gently around Amilia’s tent they would have heard a soft woman’s voice on the wind singing gently.

“Sleep well my darling, under the stars. Where moonlight does glisten upon where you are. Where the shadows will hide you and the light it will guide you. Where you’ll return every moment of night to my arms. So sleep well my darling, upon magics brow. For dreams they are calling you home.” The woman’s voice danced around the wind, a gentle smile falling on Amilia’s face as she slipped into the realm of dreams. “Sleep well my daughter, with wind in your ear. With dreams of happiness arriving. Oh sleep well my child as night does emerge. Oh sleep well my little Amilia.” 


	3. Eridur

Across the land, in a small house slept a small boy. “Sleep well my little Eridur.” The wind whispered, not daring to sing in the town. His face calmed slightly as the nightmare that had been holding his dreams went away. He clutched nothing in his sleep, though he had asked for something. His father had yelled when he’d asked for a teddy bear, screaming that “Teddy Bears house demons! You don’t want to house a demon, do you  _ boy _ ?” 

The day started out like any other, banging on the door to his room. “Get up you lazy boy!” Wiping the last of sleep from his eyes, Eridur stood quickly getting changed and tugging on his boots before he walked downstairs. It was a small house, only enough space for the three members of his family. His father stared at him with annoyance as Eridur took a seat quietly at the table. 

“Good morning Father. Good morning Dad.” His dad, who looked nothing like his father turned around and nodded to him with a small smile on his face. His father on the other hand deepened his frown, in his eyes Eridur could do nothing right. He shrank in on himself seeing the look in his father's eyes. Anger radiated from the older man.

“I heard from Fredric that you went into the forest again.” That was what this was about, of course it was. He was forbidden from going in there. Just like all the other boys in the town. “How many times must we go through this Eridur?” His father was calm. His voice was even, which meant that Eridur wouldn’t be sitting for dinner again. His dad shook his head, leaving him alone with his father.

“I don’t know father.” Eridur’s eyes focused on the wood of the table studying it intensely. Maybe he’d find a way out of this in the grain of the wood.

“What in the name of Lord Life could have possibly been so interesting in that damn wood that you would do this again?” His father hit his hands into the table, rattling it as he stood up. 

“I- I thought I saw something?” He looked up quickly, glancing at his father with wide eyes, but there was no emotion aside from anger in his father's gaze. It was terrifying.

“I-I-I” Mimicking the stutter made Eridur flinch slightly, stuttering was not something boys did. But his father didn’t stop there, or perhaps he didn’t care enough to comment more about it. “Was that in question? You know the rules. How  _ dare _ you defy them again.” 

“I’m sorry father.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. He covered his mouth in horror as he realized what he’d done. Could he not do anything right?

“Don’t you _ dare _ say that to me! Sorry?  _ Sorry? _ Sorry is for accidents. Was this an  _ accident _ , Son?” His father blew up. Yelling at Eridur at the top of his lungs. Had there been neighbors closer than a few miles they surely would have heard him. 

“I- No! I-I just meant-” His attempt at taking back his words was met by deaf ears. His father glaring at him for even making the effort to speak up. 

“Be Quiet. There will be no more words from you, you will receive no food for the day, and will be getting 23 lashes on your ass after I’ve eaten. One for every time we’ve had to do this. Maybe this time you’ll  _ learn _ .” 23 lashes, oh Lord Life this day was going to be so bad. He never should have gotten out of bed that morning. He wanted to cry, but crying meant more lashes. Crying meant that a demon had slight control over him, and the only way to get rid of that was to beat the demon. The only good demon was a dead demon. He still shook slightly as his father dragged him up by his arm, yanking his pants down and pulling out a belt.

“You will count. Am I Clear?” Counting was harder, he had to focus on not sounding like he wanted to start bawling into his hands. He stood with his hands against the wall as he answered his father in a small voice.

“Yes Father.” A resounding smack was heard as the first strike hit the back of his legs. “One.” He stifled his yelp as another came down, “two.” On and on it went, his father adding extra when he couldn’t speak fast enough or when he let out a yelp. By the time his father had finished, red welts were starting to form having received 56 lashes instead of the original 23. 

“I want your chores done by noon. If not, I suppose we’ll have another lesson.” His father stalked away, fury still permeating the air around him. Eridur pulled himself away from the wall slowly, curling his arms into his chest as a small sob escaped his lips. His hands shook as he pulled his pants back up and straightened his tunic slowly. 

Chores were simple, he could focus on those. Feed the chickens, sweep the kitchen, weed his section of the garden. Not always in that order. The broom handle was rough against his hands as he swept the dust from the kitchen. And as he heaved the heavy bucket of chicken feed toward the coup, his mind drifted to the night previous. 

It hadn’t been his idea to go into the forest, that had been Antony’s idea. He was Fredric’s son, eldest boy in the village. Eridur on the other hand, was the youngest at- his mind screeched to a halt as he realized what yesterday had been. He was eight years old, as of yesterday. His shoulders slumped slightly, neither of his parents had remembered. The boys in the village had dared him to go into the forest to find a stone that, supposedly, shone like moonlight. 

He hadn’t been able to find one of course, and his birthday present from his Father had been lashes. He spread the chicken feed around as a gust of wind blew hard against him, nearly throwing him to the ground. Regaining his balance he sighed, finishing the task by placing the bucket by the gate. In the back of his mind, he noticed the pain he had felt from his lashing had faded, first into a dull throb and now it had faded completely. Had he paid any more attention to it, Eridur would have noticed that not only had the pain vanished, but so had any marking that had been left.

His section of the garden always looked better than his parents’ did. Very few weeds, and the sprouts of different plants had already started to show their faces, earlier than the other plants in the garden. This was something he was good at, a smile stretching across his face as he settled into a pattern of checking the plants and pulling any weeds around them. 

The sun was just arriving at its midpoint when he had finished caring for the garden. His chores finished he headed back into the house quietly, so as to not disturb his dad. His Father had headed into the village shortly after breakfast. 

“Finished with your chores?” His dad said, looking up from his sewing to watch Eridur enter. 

“Yup!” Eridur answered, coming over to the fireplace where the elder sat.

“Mind your language, ‘yup’ is not the correct answer. I do not know where you learn such language.” His dad frowned slightly, putting down his sewing to look more closely at the young boy. “If you are done with your chores, we can begin with the lesson. Pick up your book and read aloud from where we ended the day before last.” 

“Uh, yes Dad.” The book in question wasn’t light, or small. It was heavy, leatherbound and was a book of history. Eridur didn’t offer an explanation into his language nor an apology or even an excuse. All of those things would have gotten him more lashes, and he had already had one session that morning and wouldn’t have any food for the day. So into the book he read, aloud as his dad had requested. 

Hours passed, his hands becoming redder with each mispronounced word. Darkness grew as the day slowly ended, and as he finished a paragraph on the War of Witches, the door swung open with a bang. His father had returned home.

Dinner was a silent affair, an empty plate sat in front of Eridur as his parents chatted not bothering to involve Eridur into their conversation. Not for the first time Eridur wished to be anywhere else, somewhere where he would be loved for everything he did. His stutter, his ability with plants, his adventurous spirit and even his naivety. 

His dreams that night followed a girl through the forest, following the exact path he had taken the previous night. Something startled her, was it him? She turned to face him quietly and both of them stood in shock. Green eyes met green eyes, and if he wasn’t certain that she was a girl it would have been like looking into a mirror. A banging on his door pulled him from his dream and he lay in his bed for a moment, memorizing what the girl had looked like. A name echoed in his ears, though he had never heard it and she had never said it, but he knew it was hers.

“Amilia” 


	4. Eridur

The next night was a similar dream, only this time the girl was sitting at his kitchen table. Magic drifted around them, grey smoke that changed the environment every so often. It felt like he was drifting, and all he could do was stare at the girl. She turned to look at him and once more as their eyes met he was dragged from his sleep with a pounding on the door.

“Get up.” The gruff voice of his father woke him, and with a quiet sense of calm he pulled on his boots and headed down to face the music of another day. If his parents noticed how quiet he was, they made no mention of it. No comments on his appearance, no comments on his stutter, nothing. His chores were done quickly, no complaints and his mind didn’t drift like it normally did. Make no mistake however, he was focused. The eyes of the girl were etched into his mind, how her hair blew slightly around in the windless dream. 

He made no mention of his dream to his parents, didn’t speak of the girl he’d seen. His lessons that day were quiet, filled with numbers and science. Eridur didn’t fully understand the numbers, or the way gravity worked, but he asked no questions. Dinner was a quiet affair, had Eridur been fully aware of his surroundings, he’d have noticed the look shared between his parents of confusion and of concern. But before either of them could bring it up with the boy, he’d cleaned up his spot and had headed for his room almost eager to head to bed. 

“Hullo,” Eridur spoke first as the dream settled around them quietly. “I’m Eridur, your-” he thought back to the first dream and the sense of a name he’d been given, “Amilia right?”

She tilted her head slightly as if considering his question. They weren’t in the dream version of his house that night, or in the forest. It was a lake that they were standing upon, the soft light of the moon glistening down toward them. 

“Yes, that is my name.” Her voice was like a whisper in the wind and yet it sounded so clear to Eridur. “Where are we? It looks like the lake my co-” She paused looking at him strangely, “my family is staying at, but it’s not.”

“I think it’s a dream. But how is a dream connecting us? You’re a witch and I’m normal.” Even saying it felt wrong, the girl didn’t look like a demon. She looked, well she looked like him, and he was fairly certain he was normal. 

“Being a  _ girl _ is normal too!” The anger in Amilia’s voice made him wince, his words hadn’t been thought out. Quite frankly had he been the one to hear those words about him he likely would have been just as mad as Amilia was.

“Well- I mean- You live in a coven! Aren’t they all, like evil or something?” Everything he had been taught, by his Father or his Dad told him as such. Magic was evil, it corrupted everyone and anything it touched. Right?

“No! It’s better than being in a den again. If anyone is evil is the Hunters. They kill the innocent.” The word den sounded familiar, he wasn’t allowed anywhere near them. At least not yet, his Father had said something in passing about how much money was spent at those places. And the Hunters weren’t evil, they hunted the bad witches, which brought him to another point, weren't all witches bad?

“But aren’t all witches demons?” Amilia’s face scrunched up as if she was trying to be as patient as possible with him. Maybe he was wrong, Amilia definitely didn’t seem bad, but that put everything he had ever been taught into question. If witches weren’t all bad, just who did the Hunters hunt? Was magic inherently evil? Did that mean that his punishments from his Father, were they wrong?

“You’re lucky that we get taught patience and how exactly to deal with stupid questions.” It was like she could tell just how much she changed his life. Her eyes were calm as she watched Eridur pace slightly, his mind going in circles as everything he thought was true was wrong.

“W-w-well I, I was curious. That’s, That’s what we get taught.” Panic was creeping in, everything was wrong. How was he going to face his parents when he woke up the next morning? What was he going to  _ say _ ?

“Are you alright? You look a bit pale.” Understatement of the year. Eridur turned to face her quietly as he took a breath.

“‘M fine.” It wasn’t as loud as he intended but clearly she could hear him just fine. 

“What  _ do _ you get taught about witches?” 

“That you’re all evil.” Simplistic, but he couldn’t exactly go into the ‘History’ he got taught, especially if that was all wrong and lies. 

“Oh” Eridur turned to face her again, slumping his shoulders at the tone in her voice. They were only eight and yet, the implications of what the two had learned was crystal clear.

“I think we need to wake up soon.” A pounding sound echoed through their shared dream as if agreeing with him. Amilia nodded, hearing the soft songs of her coven clearly around her.

“Do you think we will share dreams again?” Eridur nodded eagerly, a soft smile growing on his face. Amilia smiled back, the two reached forward to shake hands as the smoke of the dream lifted around them, pulling them back to their lives outside of the dream. 

Amilia would wake to Sinili’s voice waking both her and Oak gently for another day. She would tell them about her dream, how she had met Eridur and how he looked exactly like she did. 

Eridur said nothing to his parents as he ate breakfast that morning, before heading out to do his chores. He didn’t look at either of them with a smile that had once been on his face. Instead he focused on the world around him, watching as his plants grew faster, as he healed easier. 

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months. And at least once a week, when they were both asleep, their dreams would connect. Amilia would speak of how the world was, what she learned from her coven. Teaching him everything that she learned herself. In turn, Eridur would tell her of the events that happened, what the King was doing, where Hunters were being sent. And every once in a while as the two woke up, they both swore they saw a woman looking at them with as much love as she could muster. Though they never spoke to her, both knew who she was with a glance, cementing who they were to one another.


End file.
